Bicycle is the everyday
by Lady Monochromic
Summary: Phoenix's form of commute is the bicycle whilst it seems the prosecutor has not touched one since his childhood.


**A/N:** 2014 As part of Secret Lawyers

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><p><strong>Bicycle is the everyday.<strong>

"Wright, could you not have taken the bus?" Miles sighed at Phoenix's rough look. Despite the tufts of hair that had strayed thanks to the wind, Miles could only think that the slightly dishevelled look of exhaustion, from the bicycle, suited him. Then again when had he seen Phoenix bar beads of sweat on his face from pressure, the bicycle or even the heat.

"I originally planned to but I ended up missing the bus and thanks to Christmas the bus times are all weird," Phoenix smiled with his cheeks pushed to his tired eyes. "Anyway, I'm here on the dot." A few strands of hair fell in front of his face, the out of place hair made him look older, in a way, but they were quickly pushed back, whilst Phoenix tried to sort his hair back into the same questionable style that had remained unchanged since Miles had known him.

"I was expecting tardiness to be with you today hence the cup of coffee," Miles tapped the container.

Phoenix's shoulders slumped, "Thanks for believing in me, Edgeworth."

"Well, when it comes to your arrivals on our outings you have only failed to be late this once." Miles smirked, holding the coffee cup to hit lips.

"Outings?" Phoenix forced a sigh behind a smirk, "And here I had been thinking you'd been inviting me on dates."

Miles choked before he could take a sip; he thanked himself for not drinking with fear that there may have been coffee dripping down his chin, which would have been more shameful. Phoenix could not help grin at the very light shade of pink on pale cheeks, whilst Miles straightened himself to recompose himself. Phoenix, on the other hand, held his smirk proudly as he had been looking to earn a flustered response. He had been greeted by one in under three minutes of his arrival.

Thin lips pressed together, Miles refused to offer a response lest he wanted Phoenix to tease him. He found the expression amusing and similar to the stubborn young boy he first knew. Phoenix spoke first, "Shall we head off? We could just have a walk in the park and you can finish your coffee."

Miles nodded. He brought the container to his lips once more (now he was able to take an undisturbed sip) "I would have preferred tea, but these coffee shops make them so bland."

Phoenix laughed, "Your tastes are too refined for this area, Edgeworth." Phoenix pulled his city bike from the railings.

The two walked in the direction of the park, Phoenix with half a step in front with his more accustomed knowledge of the urban area than the prosecutor. However, thanks to Phoenix, Miles was not completely unfamiliar with the area; their... _dates _had become more frequent that he no longer felt Phoenix was inviting him out of sympathy like those first congratulatory victories. In fact, he was sure Phoenix had stopped making excuses that they had to meet up because of work. Although work schedules did often make their time short, especially for the prosecutor, they still managed to see one another at least twice a week. When had Miles become so used to seeing the awkward grin and those ridiculous eyebrows?

Intruding his thoughts, a loud voice called out to them, "Excuse me!" They spun round to find a runner jogging on the spot, thanks to Phoenix's bike she was unable to pass them.

"Sorry, I didn't realise," Phoenix apologised sincerely, shifting the bicycle towards him and stepped closer to Miles, trying his best to make room on the pavement.

The runner thanked them before she carried on. As quickly as she had come and had left, Phoenix shifted to put a comfortable space between them but held his bicycle closer to his side. The moving pedals made it awkward to walk beside him as they scraped his calf.

"You don't mind carrying that with you?" Miles asked.

"It's fine," Phoenix shrugged slightly, his elbows moving too to graze against Miles' Winter coat. "I mean if I thought it was going to be a hassle then I would have waited for the bus and would definitely be late. Although I guess you wouldn't have minded." He laughed.

Miles nodded not really agreeing with anything in particular. "I admire that you ride even during the winter."

"You're giving me more credit. It's more due to convenience rather than as a hobby. Plus what exercise would I do if I didn't commute by bike?" Phoenix shrugged. He nudged his elbow against Miles, "You must do some exercise to be so slim."

Miles quirked his eyebrows up, amused, "Is that a round-about way of asking if I work out?"

Phoenix spluttered losing his hold on his bike for a moment, "I think I'd be more direct than that, Edgeworth. Although, I can't imagine one of the best prosecutors, of this decade, riding to crime scenes on a bicycle."

"I don't think I could ride a bike," Miles said.

Miles had not realised Phoenix had stopped and a few steps behind, until he heard the pitched surprise of "What?" a little further away than he expected. Miles waited for Phoenix to catch up, watching as he dragged the bike with him clumsily. "Edgeworth, can't you ride a bike? Surely, you have ridden one before."

"I have," Miles said. "When my father was alive."

Phoenix was stuck in a mix of trying to be careful of his words and the assumption everyone could ride a bike.

"Wright, stop looking at me like I'm a witness in court." Miles turned and walked to the park that was in sight. Phoenix tagged along keeping up with him but remained stunned. His silence irked Miles; he was picking on something so trivial to be shocked at.

Until they reached the park Phoenix had remained silent, wondering if he could carry the conversation despite the two minute silence that had omitted the topic. "Do you want to ride my bike? It's not that bad despite how it looks. I mean I did speed all the way here." Phoenix offered pushing the frame closer to Miles.

"Wright, I have not touched a bicycle since my fa— since I had met you and Larry." Miles refused to look at Phoenix nor the old bicycle.

"Just like swimming you don't forget how to ride a bike." Phoenix said, tilting his city bike so the handlebars touched the back of Miles' hands. "Come on, it'll be fun. Plus we're at the park so you can always fall on the grass."

"I'm wearing a suit," Miles refused pushing the handlebars back.

"Doesn't matter. I ride to work in a suit," Phoenix shrugged taking Miles' hands and placing them on the handlebars himself. He spoke again with a softening his voice, "I'll help you so don't worry."

Miles held his glare, "I do know how to ride." Unlike many, Phoenix held his own, and was completely immune to the steel blue many often succumbed to.

"Stop being stubborn," Phoenix leaned forward placing his hands atop of Miles limiting the space Miles could move (or at least comfortably).

"Fine." Miles rolled his eyes, acquiescing to Phoenix's persistence. He expected the grin that spread across Phoenix's face like a child who had won in a persisting battle with their parents. Phoenix removed his hands and moved to hold the bike in place whilst Miles swung his leg over the frame. Miles stared at Phoenix who looked at him with encouragement: eager for him to sit on his bike.

Just as Miles seated himself on the bicycle, oddly suited to his stature, he leaned forward to grip the handlebars. Phoenix only watched as Miles leaned to place his foot on the pedals, still holding onto the bike.

"Wright, you can let go."

Phoenix checked Miles had his feet firmly planted on the park's path before he did so. Rather than thinking Miles was incapable he had only been teasing; more than that he wanted to see that the man in the headlines and the mighty high office was not so far away from him in his everyday. His want of seeing an Edgeworth not plastered in the broadsheets, nor across the room in court, but one Phoenix could so easily pull a smile from, was in the jerk of the handlebars. It amused him, easily calling out on Miles' instability on the bike earning a mutter of words Phoenix could not quite catch.

Forty seconds was all it took for Miles to straighten his back and kick the pedals; the man who looked like a child riding their first bike was gone but the refined man Miles held himself to be. Phoenix, however, noted the slight furrow in the brow of concentration and the flushed pink that was not due to the cold.


End file.
